


Herbs and Brews

by solrosan



Series: Witches are. Witches do. [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Alternate Universe - Witches, M/M, Potions, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solrosan/pseuds/solrosan
Summary: Roxy tries to familiars herself with the Kingsman stock, Harry is not a stickler for tradition but can do things proper, Merlin sits in the dark and thinks about life.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad & Roxy Morton | Lancelot, Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin
Series: Witches are. Witches do. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553854
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Herbs and Brews

**Author's Note:**

> Meta notes:  
> 1) If the people at Kingsman were witches, Merlin (not Arthur) would obviously be the head of the organisation  
> 2) This also means there has to be someone else training the new witches and this person has the title Morgan

The shelves go from the floor to the ceiling and are filled with jars and bottles. The entire room smells of herbs and dirt. 

Roxy’s never been in a room like this before. She walks around inside it, reading the Latin names and common names on each jar. They are organised by usage and then alphabetically by their Latin name. Most of the labels seem to have been made by an early 21st century label maker, somewhat ruining the atmosphere of centuries of gathered wisdom. At the same time, Roxy likes it. It shows that it’s still active, still growing, still renewing.

She wonders if the ones with multiple indications have more than one jar, or if she needs to learn if feverfew is under respirator aids or under skin problems. She has to ask Morgan when she sees her.

She’s startled when she hears the door open and she turns around, feeling busted.

“I’m sorry,” says Harry, “didn’t mean to frighten you. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“No, I just… wanted to familiarise myself with the room.”

“Mm,” Harry hums, looking around the room. “It takes a while to figuring out Morgan’s system.”

“My Nana taught me the seasonal colour system,” says Roxy, making a painful smile. “I imagine it works better when you only have a kitchen cabinet.”

Harry frowns. “Lady Elizabeth Morton was a witch?”

“No, on my mother’s side, Abigail Keppel. She says that’s how she got my grandfather to marry her.”

“Love potion?” 

“So she claims, but the official story has to do with land and someone getting pregnant.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “That’s the official story?”

Roxy shrugs. “In the family at least.”

“Don’t stick your nose up at love potions, though,” says Harry, “I’m fairly sure Merlin has been spiking my tea with that for two decades or I have no explanation why I stay with him.”

Roxy blinks, making Harry smile.

“It’s a joke, Ms Morton.” After a pause he adds, “It’s the other way around.”

Roxy laughs, about 95% sure that this is also a joke. As they have been talking, Harry has walked over to the section called ‘Anxiety’ and taken down a jar labelled ‘Valerian Root’. Carefully he fills the small plastic container he has kept in his pocket.

“Don’t tell Morgan or Merlin about the Tupperware,” he says as he puts the jar back in its place.

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” Harry nods once and leaves the room.

Roxy waits for a moment, then she pulls out her mobile and takes a few photos to show her Nana later. Maybe she can help her figure out the system.

* * *

Merlin sits on the bench just outside the kitchen door in his and Harry’s back garden. It isn’t much, not even by London standards, but at least it’s theirs. He hates the big city, with its noises and light pollution, not to mention its actual pollution, it feels like he can’t breathe. Out here, at night, on these forty square meters where Harry had allowed him to go absolutely crazy, it’s easier though. It’s almost quiet. He can almost see the stars. 

He can definitely smell the flowers and the herbs.

The kitchen door opens, light flooding out and ruining his night vision. He doesn’t move a muscle until Harry puts down a tea mug next to him.

“Ta,” he says, reaching for it.

“Made it all proper and everything.”

Merlin smiles, but then he catches a whiff of the scent and frowns. “This isn’t tea.”

“Valerian root,” says Harry as an unnecessary explanation. “That’s why I made it proper.”

Merlin holds the mug in his lap with both hands and looks out over the garden. Harry sits down next to him, holding a mug of his own. 

“I never thought it’d be like this,” Merlin says after a while. “When I took this job, I never realised quite how… global the shit we do is.”

“It’s the internet’s fault.”

Merlin snorts out a laugh. “Aye… ‘Technology is a useful servant, but a dangerous master,’ or what was it Chester used to say?”

“I liked ‘We’re drowning in information, but are starved for knowledge.’”

“‘It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity.’”

Harry chuckles. Merlin’s predecessor had always been eager to share other people’s wisdom, especially against the technological advances that forced their work to adapt rather than having the world adapting to their work. 

“He wasn’t wrong about ‘Modern technology owes ecology an apology’ though,” says Merlin. He sighs and leans back against the brick wall. Carefully he tries the brew Harry has made for him, there’s camomile in there too. Harry must really be concerned about his sleeping.

“I don’t regret taking the job,” Merlin says when he lowers the mug again. “I suppose I’m just a bit… overwhelmed. And I miss you complaining about me having dirt under my nails.”

“If it’s the complaining you’re missing…”

“Oh, shut up,” says Merlin, his laugh being cut short by a yawn. “How strong did you make this?”

“Strong enough, but that one is all on you and your fucked up sleep schedule.”

Merlin smiles. He takes another sip of the brew and looks out over his garden. Their garden. In the not-so-far-off distance, an ambulance breaks the imaginary silence. It will do him good to get some proper sleep tonight.


End file.
